


Just Peachy

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, also some background tripskye, i've never written them before so hope i did okay, quite literally full of sweetness, references to mentor coulson, this fic is my new aesthetic, usually jemma is the baker but i bet fitz could make some awesome cookies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 12:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4606818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College AU. Jemma is a stressed out night-owl, haunting the common room at night with her books. Fitz is a stress baker, letting out his nervous energy in the kitchen. His roommate doesn't want any more sweets in their room, so he leaves some in the common room. </p><p>A story of treats, notes, and serendipity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Peachy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amazingjemma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingjemma/gifts).



> Written for amazingjemma based on the prompt “you’re a stress baker and i stay up too late working and i’m writing a thank you note to the ethereal being responsible for the food magically appearing in the common room”. Hope you like it! :) 
> 
> Please follow me on tumblr at superirishbreakfasttea for lots of Marvel and Fitzsimmons fun, and send me some prompts! 
> 
> Also, credit for Fitz's last creation goes to a picture that I always see floating around on my tumblr dashboard.

When Jemma entered the common area of her dorm, she expected a late night of studying, and that is exactly what she got. She was pleasantly surprised by the plate of cookies that were situated on the table with a small note indicating that they were free to whoever wanted them. In her efforts to keep off the “Freshman Fifteen”, she had pledged to avoid sweets, but two hours into her study session, the chocolate chip cookies were calling to her. One delicious cookie turned into two, which turned into four, which turned into seven. 

By the time she was ready to go to sleep, it was nearly five o’clock in the morning. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth and stared at the empty platter that remained on the table. It didn’t look like a throwaway, so she hoped that whatever miraculous being had brought such delicious sweets into her world would return for their platter. She ripped a page from her notebook and jotted down a quick note. 

_Dear Mystery Baker,_

_It turns out that I am apparently a compulsive eater when I’m stressed. I sincerely apologize for eating all of your cookies, but you should know that they are absolutely delicious. You made my all-night study session all the more bearable. I am forever indebted to your magic treats._

_Sincerely,  
Study Owl ___

Jemma wasn’t sure why she signed her note with a pseudonym; it seemed proper to write it to a nickname of sorts, given she didn’t know who the baker was, but she easily could have signed her own name. She didn’t give herself too much time to worry over her sloppily scrawled note, and instead folded it as neatly as she could, sneaking back to her dorm to sleep for the two hours before class. When she got back to her room, her roommate Skye was just starting to wake up to go to the gym. 

“You must really like this guy,” Jemma teased. “Waking up and going to the gym with him and everything!” 

Skye rolled her eyes. “Ew, Jemma, that’s gross. He’s like, fifty. He’s just trying to get me into the intelligence department after graduation.” 

Jemma laughed as she set her alarm. “I know, I know. I just like to give you a hard time. Tell Coulson I say hello.” 

Skye grumbled a bitter response, slinking out of the door in her sweatpants and tank top. Jemma sighed happily as she climbed into the solace of her bed, shutting her eyes and drifting sweetly into sleep. 

***  
Her exam had gone swimmingly, and she knew she had her all-nighter to thank for it. Taking graduate-level glasses as an undergraduate student was no picnic, but Jemma didn’t want to waste her time when Dean Fury was more than willing to allow her to obtain both degrees at once. She heard rumors that there was one more student in a similar program, but she had yet to meet them. 

She worked on her term paper in her room as long as she could, but eventually, Skye needed to go to sleep. Jemma reluctantly gathered her belongings and trudged out to the common room. She plunked down on the couch, head still in her book searching for the perfect supporting quote. She glanced up at the ceiling in frustration as she slammed her book shut, and the platter on the table caught her eye again. 

This time, the Mystery Baker had made delicious looking brownies, and there was a note folded in front of them. She delicately picked up a treat, pleased to find they were still warm. She unfolded the note with her other hand, deciphering the messy scrawl. 

_Dear Study Owl,_

_Luckily for you, I happen to be a stress baker. My roommate refuses to “put garbage in his temple”, so I’m glad to have someone to pawn my treats off on. If you have any requests, drop me a line._

_Sincerely,_  
_Mystery Baker_

She grinned to herself, nearly moaning in delight at the taste of the brownie. Her term paper flew by much faster than her previous study guide had, and she thanked her lucky stars for her ability to speed read. It certainly made reading Jane Eyre in one sitting significantly easier. She managed to get to sleep by three in the morning, but before she retreated back to her dorm, she jotted down a note for her faceless friend. 

_Dear Mystery Baker,_

_These brownies were heavenly. You must truly be an ethereal being. I am forever indebted to your superior talents, and wish for you to continue your hobby, not because I wish you to be stressed, but because I am fortunate to take such enjoyment from the fruits of your labor._

_Sincerely,_  
_Study Owl_

_P.S. Can you tell I just read Jane Eyre in one night and wrote a term paper on it?_

_P.P.S. If you’re taking requests, I quite enjoy banana bread (and I can almost convince myself that it’s a fruit)._

Leo Fitz returned for his platter in the morning, still in his pajamas. He beamed at the neatly folded note on the red plastic and eagerly unfolded it. He laughed out loud as he read it. The handwriting was neater this time, and something about the curl of the letters indicated that his Study Owl might be a girl. 

Working to get his bachelor’s degree and his master’s in engineering at the same time was proving to be not only stressful but also isolating. His roommate Trip was a nice enough guy, but his positivity could be a little on the grating side. Sometimes he just needed some time to think, and he found that in the kitchen in the basement. He’d been helping his mum at her bakery his entire life, and he’d been a stress baker since he was eleven. 

Whoever his Study Owl was, they were going to get their socks knocked off by the banana bread he would make for them. He made a note to go to the grocery store after his class to get the proper supplies. Since he’d started exchanging notes with his mystery friend, he’d felt significantly less stressed. Even though he had no idea who Study Owl was, it felt like he was making his first friend since moving to the U.S. a year ago. Luckily he also happened to enjoy baking when he was happy. 

***  
Weeks went by, and nearly every evening, Jemma got to try something delicious and new. Each note had gotten more and more friendly and, dare she say it, a little bit flirty. They had exchanged some basic information about themselves, like their majors, stories about their respective roommates and families, and their other interests. Based on his descriptions of his roommate, she was able to deduce that he was male, and vice versa. She was pleased to find that they had similar opinions on television shows and that they both felt tea was far better than coffee. 

She desperately wanted to meet her Mystery Baker, but she wasn’t sure how to go about asking that in a note. She also wondered if he was running out of recipes to make.  
“You two need to just make out already,” Skye scoffed as Jemma ranted about the situation. 

“I can’t exactly do that if I don’t even know who he is!” Jemma protested. 

“A young, nubile prodigy like yourself can certainly land your baker boy. Just tell him you want to meet him, I’m sure you’ll have him wrapped around your dainty British finger in no time.” 

“I do have an above-average fashion sense,” Jemma murmured as she looked at herself in the mirror. Skye let out a small bark of laughter. 

“Exactly, Jems. Next time you write him a love letter, just tell him you wanna meet. Or give him your phone number. See what happens.” 

“Okay. Tonight. I’ll do it tonight,” Jemma said firmly. Skye grinned at her and gave her a thumbs up. 

“You go, girl.” 

That night, Jemma’s stomach was in knots as she entered the common area. Someone was hunched over the table, curls in disarray as he ran his hands through his hair and mumbled something to himself. Jemma withheld her sigh and sat in one of the armchairs rather than her usual couch. She startled him, and he glanced up at her with wide, impossibly blue eyes. 

“Sorry, I uh, I didn’t see you there,” he said, his voice distinctly Scottish. Now that he’d stood straight, she could see what was in front of him; a perfectly round cake, iced in light blue with some sort of fruit on it. 

Jemma nearly gasped, but snapped her jaw shut and swallowed hard. 

“You must be my Mystery Baker,” she said, watching as his own jaw went slack. “I mean, not my Mystery Baker. The Mystery Baker. I’m not quite sure what article to put in front of that. Perhaps none?” 

“You’re British.” 

“I am,” she replied. 

“Well this is a little embarrassing,” he admitted, scratching absently behind his ear. “I made this for you. I was just finishing up the note.” 

She smiled at him and stood up to get a proper look at the cake. In light pink frosting were the words “You’re a”, and beside it was peach, sliced in half and placed face down on the pale frosting. 

Jemma felt her face heat up and she turned to glance at him, unsurprised to find his face also red. “I’m Jemma, by the way. Jemma Simmons.” 

“Leo Fitz,” he answered. “But I prefer to just go by Fitz.” 

“Do I not get my note?” she teased. His cheeks darkened even further. 

“I suppose I could just ask you, now,” Fitz answered. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you the last few weeks, even if they have been just silly little notes. And I was thinking maybe we could really get on, so I was wondering if you’d like to go see a movie with me. Sometime.” 

She beamed at him and placed a kiss on his warm cheek. “I’d love to. If you’re not busy right now, my roommate happens to be quite skilled at getting around the software blocks on our wifi. She just downloaded that new Captain America movie, I’m not sure if you like that sort of thing—“ 

“I’d love to,” he answered. “I’ve got some popcorn in my room.” 

“Well why don’t you go grab it and meet me back at mine? My roommate is out for a while, she had a study group to go to, something about cramming for her computer science final.” 

Fitz grinned at her. “Perfect. Where’s your room?” 

“Just at the end of this hall, number 601.” 

“You’ve got to be joking.” 

“And why’s that, Leo Fitz?” she asked, enjoying the way his name fit in her mouth. 

“I’m in 615. Just on the other side of this wall.” 

She burst out laughing and he followed suit. Minutes later, they were seated on her small twin bed, fairy lights lit above them. They each munched on a piece of Fitz’s delicious peaches and cream cake, a bowl of popcorn resting between them. The movie played idly in the background while they chatted rapidly. It took them nearly an entire minute to recover from the shock that they were both in Fury’s specially designed accelerated program, and yet had never met. They discussed their individual projects at great lengths, and ranted about the banality of their core undergraduate courses. It took Fitz nearly an hour before he finally reached over and took her hand in his. She glanced up at him to find he was suddenly staring intently at the screen in front of him. 

“Oh, Fitz,” she sighed, equal parts fond and exasperated. 

“What?” he asked defensively. 

She rolled her eyes and grasped the back of his neck, fingers knitting in his curls. His brow furrowed as he opened his mouth to speak again, but she cut him off by pressing her lips to his. 

“Oh,” he whispered when she pulled back. 

“Oh? That’s all I get?” 

He gave her a blinding smile, kissing her with such force that he knocked her back onto the bed. The movement of his lips elicited a breathy sigh from her, and he tightened his grip on the sides of her t-shirt. 

The door swung open suddenly, and the two of them didn’t even notice. Skye let out a noise of surprise and spoke to someone behind her. 

“Oh my God! I had no idea my roommate was getting jiggy with it in here.” 

“I didn’t know my roommate was getting jiggy with it in here either,” Trip practically whooped. “Hell yeah, little man!” 

That finally broke Fitz out of his Jemma-induced haze. He shot off of her, looking incredibly dazed. She didn’t look much better, trying desperately to flatten her hair. 

“Oh sweet, is this a freaking peach cake?!” Skye exclaimed, grabbing the nearest fork and scooping up a bite. “Wow, that is heavenly. No wonder Jemma never saved any for me, she was probably afraid I’d fall in love with you, too.” 

“Skye!” Jemma hissed, hiding her face in her hands. Trip chuckled as he looked between his roommate and his new…friend. 

“Stress baking my ass,” he joked. “That was one hundred percent seduction baking.” 

“Jemma, this is my roommate Trip. Trip, this is Jemma,” Fitz mumbled, hand going behind his neck nervously. Jemma had the sudden overwhelming urge to kiss him again. 

“Fitz, meet Skye. Skye, meet Fitz,” she said instead. 

“And apparently we don’t need to introduce these two,” Fitz said slowly, realization spreading across his features. 

“You know,” Jemma said slyly. “I’m usually studying in the common room at this time. And I thought Skye went to sleep at ten-thirty every night…” 

“And I’m usually down in the kitchen,” Fitz played along. “Say, you don’t think—“ 

“—that Skye and Trip are—“ 

“—engaging in some sort of secret—“ 

“—liasons whilst the two of us are otherwise—“ 

“---occupied,” they finished together. 

Skye and Trip exchanged a half-amused, half-guilty look. 

“Did you just see that?” Skye asked Trip. “Cause I’m pretty sure I just witnessed legitimate mind-reading.” 

“Girl, I am inclined to agree with you.” 

“So no comment then?” Fitz smirked. “Regarding the liasons?” 

Skye pursed her lips while Trip poked at her side. “No comment.” 

“Hey, you know, if Fitz and Jemma wanna hang out in here…” 

Skye looked over at Trip with a glimmer in her eye. “Then we might as well go hang out at your place.” 

The two of them left as quickly as they’d come in, giggling like schoolchildren. 

“So,” Jemma said in the silence left behind. 

“Where were we again?” 

“Right about here,” Jemma whispered, drawing him in to heated kiss. She smiled against his mouth as he pressed her back into the bed, sending their plates and popcorn tumbling off. She’d deal with that in the morning. For now, she had much more pressing concerns to tend to.


End file.
